From a spark, burns a fire
by You-drive-me-nuts-miller
Summary: Everything should have been simple -return to Storybrooke and life returns to normal. But life can ever be normal when you are Emma Swan. Finding herself caught between her old love Neal and the intriguing Captain Hook whilst all the time trying to rebuild relationships with her complicated family - will Emma ever find what she is looking for?


The salty air lashed against her skin. Its harsh, abrasive texture turned her cheeks red raw whilst the cool wind numbed her face. Frozen, she stared out into the moody, churning sea of the Atlantic. The water was a swirling mix of greys and blues peppered with slashes of foamy white where the waves had clashed together in violent battle.

The ocean was a law unto itself. When calm, it was a place of beauty, where man could travel safely and traverse to distant lands. But when she was angry: oh, brave is the soul to attempt to tame her. And today the waters swelled and rose in angry unison against a sky of never ending cloud where daylight ceased to exist.

The tension in her shoulders was palpable- her back and neck were frozen in an upright position. She cast her eyes out over the water to the distant horizon; faint and indistinct as the ocean and sky melded together.

_Where? Where is he?_

The words turned over and over in her mind, becoming louder and louder as the seconds passed. In her veins, the blood seemed to cool more with each moment. _He should be back by now. He should be here…_

She felt a small tug at her hand; light and soft. She looked down to her right.

The girl was small –four or five? Her long, dark hair hung limply down her back as she stared ahead into the darkness. Her pale face was punctuated by large, round eyes the colour of a beautiful, clear lagoon. Her teeth chattered.

Pulling her closer, Emma crouched down and wrapped her arm around her shoulders.

"You're cold."

The girl didn't respond. She just kept looking ahead – her eyes scanning the scene ahead.

"Where is he?" she finally asked, her voice small and soft.

Emma sighed and leant her forehead against the child's cheek. The last, scant daylight was beginning to fade. "I don't know," she finally replied.

The little girl's arms found their way around her neck –her small, cold face pressed against her neck as the wind continued to howl around them. "I'm scared mommy," she whispered.

_Me too, _Emma thought as she held her tight, _me too._

* * *

Panting, she pushed herself up in bed. Her face was covered in a film of cool sweat that she wiped away with the back of her hand. She leaned forward to catch her breath.

Through the cool, blue midnight light she sought out the glass of water she had placed on her nightstand, taking long, thirsty gulps as she settled her breathing and lay back against her pillows. It had been a week since she had arrived back. A week in Storybrooke was like ten elsewhere. So much happening, so much to learn… New connections being made every day. Magic. Memories…

But every night it was the same. Another nightmare. A dark stormy sea. Waiting, searching, hoping… For what? For who? Then the little girl, the girl who called her _mommy. _She looked so, so familiar. What did it all mean?

This same dream had haunted her since that first night they had returned on the Jolly Roger. She couldn't understand it. They say that dreams have meaning, that they let out fears and feelings hidden inside. But this was so obscure –she had no fear of the ocean, and the idea of another child- no, that was never going to happen. Henry was her focus.

_Henry._

She slipped her feet to the wooden floor. It was cold against her bare feet. Wrapping her arms around herself she slipped out of her room and along the corridor to Henry's room. Quietly she turned the bronzed door handle and pushed it open. There he lay half covered by a comforter, one leg dangling out of the bed. His face was pushed against the pillow; his hair was bunched up, hands hidden underneath. A smile crept onto her lips. He was finally safe. She – they – had done it, saved him. Rescued him.

Ever since their return she had felt the need to check on him constantly. Two, three times in the night she would rise and make sure he was still there –still breathing. It had also become routine that week for her to find a reason to visit the middle school. Just to check. Just to be safe. She couldn't lose him again. She was done losing people she loved.

Absentmindedly she fingered the worn lace that was wrapped around her left wrist. Her thoughts slipped back in time to a moment when she had once considered opening her heart again – letting someone new inside her shell. She shook her head and let her arm drop down again. The time for her was over – now Henry was all that mattered.

She crept further into the room and placed a small, soft kiss on her son's forehead. He was warm and smelled like soap and minty toothpaste. She was never letting him go again. Ever.

* * *

_One week earlier…_

The coastline of Storybrooke, Maine was coming into focus as the Jolly Roger charged through the clear waters. Standing against the bow, her eyes searched for the familiar land marks – the harbour, the clock tower… It was early and the sky was still tinged with darkness as the first hints of orangey daylight began to peek over the horizon.

_Home, _she thought.

How strange. When did this place become _home_? Why was it such? Was it because of Henry? Her parents? The people? To be honest, she didn't know. Her childhood had been spent moving from place to place – she had never truly had a home. Just places to live, people who put a roof over her head. Sometimes they were nice; sometimes they weren't.

But somehow, at some point, this small, magical, enchanted, crazy corner of the world had become a place where she could finally call _home._

"There's nothing more beautiful than a sunrise, eh lass?"

She felt the presence beside her even before he spoke. He had this buzz, this thickness that surrounded him and announced his presence. It made her skin tingle and her stomach tighten. She smiled at his words, "You may be right Hook."

They both stared ahead, arms resting on the sturdy, wooden gunwale that lined the top deck. This was the first moment together they had shared since Henry had been rescued and they had used Pan's shadow to bring them back to this world. "Thank you," she said. "For everything." She turned so she could see his face, set in striking profile, silhouetted as it was against the lightening sky. "I couldn't have done this without you, so-" taking a deep breath she returned her eyes to the water ahead, "Thank you."

"Gratitude is not necessary Swan." She felt him turn. He was facing her now – his gaze hot on her face. She kept looking ahead –afraid to turn, afraid that she might give something away under his intensity. "I am a man of honour. Or at least, I once was…" His voice shifted into doubt, almost as if he was questioning his own words.

Who was this man? A pirate? A liar? A man hell bent on revenge over an ancient grudge? Her forehead wrinkled. _No, no. _That was not the man she had come to know – decent, kind, honourable… "Whatever your reasons," she turned her face to look up at his, "I want you to know I am forever grateful. I have my family back."

His face seemed to pinch up a little at the word family. _Henry._ He was her family. And now Henry had his mother and his grandparents and his father-

_Oh. _Her face dropped. She understood. _Neal_. He thought she meant-

"And thank you for helping us to rescue Neal too. Henry – Henry is very grateful."

A flash of unspoken understanding crossed his face and with it a flicker of something; hope maybe?

"Aye, well, your gratitude is always appreciated darling." He ran his index finger across his full bottom lip. Her breath caught. "Pity _that_ was a one-time thing."

"Pity for you," she whispered.

The wind was whipping her hair around her face, sticking to her lips and making her blink rapidly. Seconds passed, stretching into minutes as they looked at one another. Finally she swallowed and dropped her gaze, tucking an unruly golden strand behind her ear. "So what are you going to do now?" she asked, her eyes lingering on his strong jaw.

"Now?" he asked, as though she had woken him from a daydream.

"Now we are back in Storybrooke."

His mouth twisted a little. He reached up and rubbed the cool, sliver hook of his left hand against his cheek as he seemed lost in thought. "I'm not sure. All I've ever known for so long was that I wanted to find the crocodile and seek my revenge and now-" he shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know love."

"Someone told me once that this is where the fun begins." His lips curled up at her words. She held her gaze steady- it was almost a competition – who would look away first

"Ah yes. Now I wouldn't want to miss that, would I Swan?" He stepped a little closer and she heard him take a deep breath. He smelled of something earthy and sea like: not clean but not dirty either, like he wore the weight of so many lifetimes alongside his heavy leather coat.

"What about staying here?"

He began to stare at her intently, almost through her in fact. His steely blue eyes narrowed a little. "I'm not sure if I would fit in here Swan."

She laughed a little, "It's a town full of refugees from the Enchanted Forest – I thing you'll fit right in."

"Perhaps," he nodded before his face turned serious again, "Would you like to me to stay love?"

Her cheeks coloured at his bold question, he was certainly straight to the point. But she could lonely give him an honest answer, "I would miss you if you left."

"Then I'll stay," he replied instantly.

"Good."

It did feel good, the idea that he would be around for a while. He had become such a familiar figure in recent times, had gotten her out of more than one tight spot. The thought of his presence becoming a more permanent one was not unpleasant.

Finally, he made to leave. "I'd better get back, steer us into port." Nodding she watched his tall figure walk away to the other end of the ship. She studied his familiar walk –lilting slightly from side to side as he did.

She hoped he did decide to stay. Really.

* * *

"So, Emma, how about it?"

She was sat at a booth in Granny's – half way through a long awaited cheeseburger. It had been ten days since she had arrived home. Ten days it had taken for her to find the time. Ten days of late nights and bowls of cereal for breakfast, dinner and lunch. Ten days before she finally sat down and gave Ruby her order when Neal had appeared from nowhere –clasped in his hand was a single red rose. He had sat next to her and proceeded to ask her on a date.

"Neal…"

"Come on Emma, one date. I just want to make it up to you –or at least try."

Sighing she flicked her eyes to the ceiling. Yes, she still loved him. Her heart still flooded with warmth as she remembered their early days together, huddled in the car at night, running from place to place. She loved him as Henry's father – without Neal, there was no Henry. And she had to admit, her pulse did raise a little when he came near…

"I don't know. Maybe it's too soon…" His shoulders sunk at her words and she felt a cold pain in her chest. Why was this so hard? "It's just this is all so new to Henry, and I don't want to confuse him."

"What could be confusing about his mom and dad being together? That's what every kid wants." She knew he was not just talking about Henry. His words spoke strongly of a child who had grown up in a broken home, always wishing his parents were together again.

"I know, I know… It's just there is so much happening right now." She gave him an apologetic smile. She hated seeing him hurt.

"Okay," he nodded, "Maybe it is too soon for _that. _But how about a drink –as friends. No ulterior motive." He dropped the rose onto the seat beside him and moved his head closer. "We have eleven years to catch up on."

_Friends. How could that hurt? _

"Okay. Friends - just to talk. I guess it's important for Henry's sake. How about tonight-I'm off at seven, I can meet you at The Rabbit Hole?"

He nodded and a smile crept over his face, "Seven, at The Rabbit Hole, I got it." He looked the same when he smiled – as if no time at all had passed and she was still young and infatuated with this man.

She smiled back. More memories of the old Neal were resurfacing, washing away a little of the pain that had settled in her heart when he had disappeared. _And left her_. She stiffened.

"So, I'm going to finish my lunch now," she pointed at the half finished burger on her plate and he made to get up.

"And I better get back to the library – Belle and I are re-cataloguing the entire stock." Unexpectedly he stopped and took hold of her shoulders, placing a quick, damp kiss on her cheek. Then, he gave her a small nod and headed out of the diner.

An unsettled feeling in her stomach made her push away her remaining food and instead she stared out of the window and watched him make his way along Main Street. She didn't think she would ever get used to seeing him again. But she was happy he was back. It was good for Henry to know his father.

Family. That was what mattered, right?

**A review means a lot - I'm new to writing for Once Upon a Time and your feedback is invaluable and lets me know what I'm doing right (or wrong!) and is a huge motivating factor in continuing a story!**


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